


The First Punch of It

by disarm_d



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Secretly a Virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarm_d/pseuds/disarm_d
Summary: Set in the bungalow, truth or dare and first times.





	The First Punch of It

**Author's Note:**

> Well with hours to spare, I realized that I should make sure all the fics I had posted on tumblr were also up here, just in case. This was originally posted on tumblr four years ago.

Zayn’s dreading his turn. He’s the last one in the circle but somehow he still doesn’t feel like he’s had time to come up with a good answer when they get around to him.

“I was fifteen,” he says, and of course his voice cracks halfway through.

No one says anything but Zayn’s pretty sure that Louis is giving Harry a pointedly disbelieving look, so he follows that with, “It was with Niall’s mom,” which surprised everyone into laugher and breaks the tension.

He was a few days late to the bungalow and he already feels like an outsider; he doesn’t also want to be the only one to admit he still hasn’t had sex. Even though Niall’s claim of losing his virginity to an exchange student does sound a little suspect.

They chat for a little longer. Liam goes off to bed. Louis wanders outside of phone Hannah. Niall pulls out his laptop. Eventually it’s just him and Harry in the living room. Harry’s lying on the couch, nested in blankets and pillows. Zayn can’t remember, but he’s pretty sure that Harry’s naked underneath all that.

He’s still sitting on the floor, his back propped up against the couch. He could move to one of the empty chairs but he can’t be bothered.

Harry chats quietly, this roundabout story of the time he played a battle of the bands and then something about the merch girl for the band who actually won.

“Did you pull her, then?” Zayn asks.

“Not like, I mean. You know.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says. Not at all.

“Just, like, a blowie in the back of Todd’s dad’s van.”

Zayn’s stomach pretzels and he forces himself to exhale and then laugh.

“She did that tornado thing,” Harry says thoughtfully after a moment. “You know, around and around with her tongue.”

“Right,” Zayn says. “The tornado.”

“It just makes me a bit dizzy, if I’m honest,” Harry says. Then, “Do you think it’s like that for girls, too?”

“That tornadoes make them dizzy?”

“Yeah, like, if you do a lot of circles with your tongue.”

“Maybe,” Zayn says, after a long enough pause to make it seem like he was really considering it.

“I heard you’re meant to do the alphabet,” Harry says.

Zayn hums.

“I mostly just use my fingers,” Harry says. “It’s easier, like. If she’s wet for it.”

He wants to shiver but he forces himself to hold still and little goosebumps collect along his hairline. Harry’s told them all about the time that his dad walked in on him in bed with two girls, and Zayn’s still never put his hand up anyone’s shirt.

“Anyway,” Harry starts.

“What was your first time like?” Zayn asks because it seems like maybe Harry is going to change the subject away from sex.

“I was a bit drunk,” Harry says. “I’d been dating this girl for like two weeks and we were in my friend’s bedroom during a party.”

“That’s class,” Zayn says.

“Right? I was like so excited but she was really quiet and I couldn’t tell if it was just that the music downstairs was too loud. That’s the thing that’s strongest in my head, but I can’t remember what song was playing. Kind of stupid.”

It would have been the opposite of what it’s like now: a noisy party, a house full of people. Harry bracing himself over some girl. Even in someone else’s house he would have taken off all his clothes.

It’s silent now. Just the two of them in the living room while the rest of the house is asleep.

“But it was good?” Zayn asks.

“Yeah. She had her belly button pierced. She was like really fit.”

“What was the best time?” Zayn pulls his legs up and folds his arm around his knees. It’s easy to ask questions when Harry’s just an invisible presence off behind him. He imagines that Harry is staring up at the ceiling. Like they’re close enough to touch but off on different planets.

“I don’t know,” Harry says, consideringly. “Maybe something stupid. Like, just, you know when you’re fucking someone and it’s good everywhere, like nothing’s ever going to hurt again.”

Zayn’s quiet.

“Or, like, when someone’s riding you and you can see her tits and her thighs. I was seeing this one girl who always got so wet, like she was just soaked, and it was always, like. Messy,” Harry says. “Fuck.” He huffs loudly. 

There’s the soft sound of fabric moving. Harry swallows and the room is so quiet that Zayn can hear the wet sound when he licks his lips.

“I should, um,” Harry says. “Like, I”m going to take a shower before bed.”

“You can stay,” Zayn says. His entire face has ignited, but he’s facing forward so Harry won’t be able to tell. He looks down at his knees.

“Like - “ Harry says.

“I don’t care,” Zayn says.

The rustling is longer this time, like Harry’s pushing all the blankets away. Zayn can feel something soft brush against his shoulder, the little whisper of fleece on the back of his neck. He can’t see anything and he doesn’t know if that’s why Harry pushed all the blankets away, or if maybe he, like. It maybe he wants Zayn to turn around and see.

Another wet sound - Harry licking his palm? - and then the smooth rasp of skin against skin. Zayn’s sitting on the floor and Harry’s there, right behind him. Zayn could throw his head back and meet the line of Harry’s shins or he could twist around and see, but he stays statue still and listens to the quiet rhythm of Harry pulling on his cock.

Zayn closes his eyes. He can smell - it’s like earthy. Raw in a way that makes the back of his tongue feel tight. There’s the bump bump bump of Harry’s elbow hitting the back of the sofa and Zayn can feel the cushion he’s leaning against shake with it. Harry’s thigh jerks and it sends a soft crush of blanket into the back of Zayn’s neck.

“Are you hard too?” Harry asks. The rhythm of his hand slows but never stops.

Zayn nods, staring forward, but Harry must see him because he whispers, “Come up on the couch with me.”

Zayn drops his head but then he stands before he realizes he’s decided to.

Harry’s sprawled out. Chest thighs nipples cock wrist lips cock belly cock. Zayn stares and then crawls on the far end of the couch, kneeling between Harry’s feet. 

Harry’s thighs fall open to make more room for him, one of his feet tucking under between two cushions, the other just balanced on the far edge. It would be easy to fall forward and blanket Harry’s body with his own, but he can’t even imagine reaching out to cup Harry’s ankle and stop his foot from falling off the edge of the couch.

Harry’s hand has stilled while they sort out the now shared space but he gives himself a long squeeze once they’re finally settled, staring up at Zayn. Naked in a way that Zayn’s never seen another bloke because he’s hard and flushed all the way across his chest.

Zayn flattens his hand to the line of his own cock, straining in his jeans, harder than he’s ever been, and Harry says, “Yeah, do it.” He unzips and pulls himself out, leaving his pants and jeans bunched high around his thighs. Harry can see him now, but it feels so good to get his hand around his cock that he forgets to be self conscious.

Harry’s stomach curves in underneath his rib cage and he holds his cock really tight when he jerks himself off. He’s mostly quiet but he keeps squirming, fucking up into his hand. His thighs tighten until his ankle brushes up against the side of Zayn’s leg, but neither of them move away.

Harry comes without warning after holding his breath for an endless minute and Zayn lets his hand fly over his cock until he’s there too. He comes so hard that he hunches forward with the first punch of it, curling in on himself until finally he straightens again with a choked gasp.

Harry’s come all over his belly, the streaks shiny in the darkness. The little puddle above his belly button and where he’s shaved away his treasure trail.

“Alright?” Harry asks. Some of Zayn’s come landed on Harry’s thigh. Instead of wiping it away with a blanket, Harry reaches down and rubs over it with his palm until the wet smear has blended in.

“Yeah,” Zayn says. His chest is tight, heart pounding like he just scaled the side of a building.

“Let’s go swimming,” Harry says, waiting for Zayn’s nod before he pushes himself off of the couch.

Zayn stands as well, steps out of his jeans and leaves them in a puddle on the floor. Follows Harry out into the night.


End file.
